Thanks for Giving
by Victoria Quynn
Summary: The brothers face their first Thanksgiving alone. Prequel.


Thanks for Giving

"Well, that's done." Brian McFadden set the last bowl on the table and stood looking at it with a huge grin. If the table was not as sturdy as it was, he thought it might buckle under the weight. "Looks pretty good, if I do say so myself."

His elder brother Adam nodded. "It looks great." He swatted Brian on the butt with a towel. "But don't go getting full of yourself. You had plenty of help."

"I know." The second oldest winked. "But I was kinda, you know, head chef."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Okay, Julia Child."

"Who's that?" eight-year-old Evan asked.

Mesmerized by the sight, six-and-a-half-year-old Ford's countenance was full of wonder. "I haven't seen that much food since …" The boy's voice trailed off and he regarded his two oldest brothers with a confused expression.

"A famous cook on TV," Adam answered Evan as he cupped his next-to-youngest brother's shoulder. "Since what, Ford?"

The blond boy's voice was barely audible. "Since the funerals …"

Adam knelt in front of Ford and considered his response. He acknowledged, "Yup, there was a lot of food there and people brought a lot by afterwards to make sure we ate good until we got used to Mom and Dad not being here anymore."

The six-year-old looked at the floor a moment. Thoughts tore through his mind, and he outwardly appeared stoic and did not tear up, for which the eldest was grateful. Only several months since their parents' passing, the seven McFadden brothers had finally returned to a semblance of normalcy, albeit a new normal with eldest brothers Adam and Brian – eighteen and sixteen, respectively – in charge, with able help from Crane, just turned thirteen.

Finally, Ford met Adam's gaze. "I know. But it's still a lot of food."

Adam smiled and tousled the blond hair. "Yes, it is, Fordie." He pulled the boy into a hug and tickled him, grateful the youngster had not devolved into the weeping mess of several months before. Some of the brothers still had the occasional bad dream or moodiness, but their sleep and overall dispositions had improved with time.

Crane appeared in the dining room with youngest brother Guthrie in his arms. "Look who just woke up." He deposited the soon-to-be-three-year-old in his high chair.

Brian quipped, "Yeah, just in time. Must've smelled the feast."

Yawning, Guthrie pointed to a roll. Crane looked at Adam, who nodded approval, and the third eldest handed one to the youngest, who immediately bit into it.

Evan reached for one as well, but Brian shooed him away. "Why does Guthrie get one and I don't? It's not fair."

"Because he did his job and napped long enough for us to do ours," Adam replied. "Sit down and we'll all eat after grace." He did a mental count. "Crane, tell Daniel to come down."

"He's not upstairs. Maybe he's outside."

Adam looked out the side door. "He took the trash out before. Don't tell me he got lost again." He sighed. "Okay, go call him," he directed Crane. "The rest of you wash up."

~~00oo00~~

"Daniel! Come on in and eat!"

With no immediate sign of his younger brother, Crane called again. "Daniel!" Folding his arms against the chill, he ran to the field behind the house where a pile of trash awaited burning, a chore Adam and Brian would supervise the next day if the wind did not pick up. Not really expecting to find the nine-year-old there, Crane pulled his arms tighter around himself before tramping toward the barn. Expecting to be outside only a minute or two, he had not thought to pull on a jacket.

The sun was close to setting as Crane entered the barn. Their father had had the structure reinforced a couple years before, and the formerly drafty building was now sealed against the elements, which made it a not-so-secret hideaway for the younger boys. The loft was the favorite spot, so Crane climbed the ladder. There, he found Daniel asleep amidst a scattering of papers and printed materials and a lit flashlight.

"Danny."

The boy barely stirred. Crane reached down and playfully swatted him on the shoulder. "Wake up; it's time to eat."

The nine-year-old mumbled, "Not hungry," and rolled over in the hay.

"Come on. It's cold out here and it's getting dark."

Snuggled in the hay, Daniel answered with a sleepy, "It's warm enough."

Crane sighed. Curious and momentarily unaware of the chill, he picked up some of the paraphernalia around Daniel. Kneeling, he shone the flashlight on what appeared to be college catalogues and correspondence addressed to Adam - acceptance letters! He knew Adam had chosen UC Davis, where he should have been – _would have been_ – these last few months, if the unthinkable had not happened.

He now shook Daniel harder.

The boy stirred. "What?!"

"Where'd you get these?"

"Get what?" Daniel sat up. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to focus. "Ya didn't have to kick me."

"I didn't kick ya."

Daniel rubbed his side and spoke in a defensive tone. "It feels like it."

"Well, it's time to eat and you wouldn't wake up."

Clearly annoyed, the younger boy rolled his eyes, a behavior that had not always gone over well with his parents, nor now with Adam if he was in a snit. But this was Crane, his best friend. Of the seven brothers, they had the closest relationship. Neither would stay mad at the other long and now, as he focused more readily on what Crane had in his hand, he asked, "What's pre-med and biology?"

"They're what Adam was gonna major in in college," the elder replied. "Where'd you get these?"

"The trash bag broke and they fell out. I put everything else in the pile and brought them in here to look at." Daniel paused. "Crane, why is he throwing them out? I thought he was gonna go next year after we were all settled."

"I don't know. I thought he was, too." Crane looked around. "Maybe he threw them out by mistake. Let's give them back to him."

The brothers gathered up the papers and catalogues and stuffed them as neatly as they could into Daniel's jacket. Distracted from the moment and feeling the chill again, Crane pulled his arms out of his sweatshirt sleeves and close to his body to keep warm.

Just as they descended the ladder, Adam entered the barn, obviously annoyed. "Crane, can't you hurry him along any quicker than that? And Daniel, you run off one more time and you'll have more than explaining to do. We'll all waiting on you!"

Contrite, Daniel said, "Sorry. Don't blame Crane. It's my fault."

The eldest pulled Crane to him as brother number three shivered. "And don't you go out again without a jacket!

"I didn't think I'd be out here that long …"

"I know!" Adam shook his head and sighed. For the umpteenth time in the last few months, he made a mental note to try to rein in his teenage temper, which did not set a good example for the younger ones. Indeed, this new de facto parental role in which he found himself would take some getting used to, and they were all going to need more time. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling but what was so doggone interesting out here? Brian's gonna have your heads because dinner's getting cold."

Crane and Daniel shared a look and Daniel pulled out the materials from his jacket. He explained, "These fell out of the trash and I was reading them and fell asleep."

Letting go of Crane, Adam eyed the papers Daniel held out as he removed his jacket and gave it to the teen to put on. "None of you is gonna freeze on my watch." He addressed Daniel. "Leave them out here. We'll burn them with the trash tomorrow."

Both younger brothers appeared crestfallen. Crane asked, "Won't you need them to go back next year?"

The eldest paused. "I'm not going back." He tried to hurry them along.

They stood their ground. Crane asked, "Why?"

Adam sighed. He looked directly at Crane. "Didn't we have that conversation?"

"You said you were going back next year."

Adam seemed annoyed again, this time at Crane. The teen was mature and wise beyond his years but now seemed as dense as Brian could be sometimes, or so Adam thought. His voice raised slightly and he spoke slower. "No. I said I would go back _if I could._ And it doesn't seem like that's in the cards, _now does it_?"

Crane spoke softly. "No. I'm sorry." The teen started to walk ahead of the other two.

" _Because of us?"_ Daniel asked.

Crane turned. "Yup. Come on."

Daniel fell in step behind Crane.

Sans jacket, Adam now also felt the chill, but maybe it was as much internal as outside. "Wait!"

He caught up and pulled both younger brothers close. Their body heat gave him a modicum of warmth. "Look, it's gonna be an adjustment – for all of us. We all know that, don't we?"

Crane and Daniel hesitated before nodding, not knowing where Adam was going with this.

"And the only way for me to go to college would be for you guys to be fostered out because Bri's not old enough, and some would say not responsible enough, and we can't have that, right?" Both boys quickly shook their heads. "So, we'll stay here as a family and do the best we can and be thankful for that. Okay?"

Two wide smiles greeted that news. "Okay."

Before they could take another step, Brian approached. "So the beautiful Thanksgiving dinner I slaved over the stove _all day_ to make is getting cold while _Dad_ here shoots the breeze. Hmph! How's that for appreciation?" He turned to walk back, but continued over his shoulder, "After all, can't leave _an eight-year-old_ to babysit the _six-year-old and the baby_ for more than a few minutes now, can we – _Dad_?"

Adam grinned. "No, _we can't_ – _Mom_!"

Brian turned as he neared the porch. "Happy Thanksgiving – _Dad_!"

Daniel yelled back, "Happy Thanksgiving – _Mom_!"

From the porch they heard, "I'll get you for that, Dan'l!"

Adam winked to the two with him, "He'll have to come through me first."


End file.
